Three months. It had been three months since he'd jumped off of the hospital roof. Today is the first time since the funeral that John and Mrs. Hudson visited his grave. He can still remember the funeral. So many people were there, he knew all of them. He didn't think so many people would miss him, especially since most of them didn't like him. He stood out of sight then and he stands out of sight now, watching. Mrs. Hudson placed a bouquet of flowers in front of his head stone and John began to talk. He couldn't hear John's words but he could read his lips.
It wasn't long before emotions got the best of Mrs. Hudson and she left to let John say goodbye alone. John stood there for a moment before placing a hand of the black tombstone. And he spoke. "You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm, there were times I didn't even think you were human." He laughed sadly. "But let me tell you this, you were the best man, the most human... human being I have ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so there." He patted the headstone and took a step back.
"I was so alone, and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Shelock, for me. Don't be..." He paused. "dead. Would you do that for me? Just stop this. Stop this." John looked once more at the tombstone, rereading the words inscribed in it. Sherlock Holmes, it read. Then he turned and walked away. He met up with Mrs. Hudson and they took a cab to somewhere else. He couldn't bare to see his friends in such a state, but he prefered them sad over dead anyday.
He sighed heavily but stayed where he was, looking onward at his grave. Footsteps came up behind him. He didn't have to turn to know who it was. "So are you going to?" He shot a quizzical look. "You know what I'm talking about. Are you ever going to tell him?"
"Tell who what?"
"Tell John the truth?" Molly gently took his hand in her own. The night in the lab before he jumped, he had told her the truth. He had begged her to keep his secret and to help him. How could she say no? He also told her that she was the one person he trusted the most and that he loved her. "He's your best friend, Sherlock. I know you can't bare to see him like this. He's gone back to his therapist, you know. He needs to know. Give him some peace. Please."
Sherlock sighed again and looked into her eyes. "Molly," he cooed, "I wish I could. He can't know. If he knew and suddenly became happier, people would wonder why. I can't have people think I'm alive. I wish he could know. That's all he wants is for me to not be dead. But I have to be. If I was wasn't died; him, you, and Mrs. Hudson would be." He squeezed her hand. "I couldn't live without you all." Molly pulled herself into his arms and he hugged her back even tighter.
Tears burned in his eyes as they stood in each other's embrace. How he loved Molly. After years of showing little emotional interest in her, she still loved him. After everything he had said to try to get her to stop, she still loved him. She was smart, and sweet, and he couldn't help but love her. He pulled back a little and kissed her. The feeling of her lips on his was the only thing that kept him from sobbing. She pulled away and they walked out of the cemetary hand-in-hand, back to Sherlock's hiding place in the basement of Molly's flat building. He wanted to tell John, but how?